


Write It Down Instead

by alocalband



Series: OMGCP Tumblr Ficlets [10]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Derek "Nursey" Nurse is Unchill, Feelings Realization, First Kiss, Fluff, Jealousy, Love Confessions, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-21
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2019-01-01 03:57:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12148128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alocalband/pseuds/alocalband
Summary: “Um, so. How much of that did you hear?” Dex asks him, and luckily Nursey’s got his head buried so far into the freezer that he doesn’t have to cover his pained grimace.“Not much, man, don’t worry about it. Hey, you think Bitty would murder us if we used his new oven for store-brand taquitos?”





	Write It Down Instead

**Author's Note:**

> [Originally posted over on Tumblr](http://alocalband.tumblr.com/post/164619033140/thanks-maggie-love-you-dex-says-and-nurseys)

“Thanks, Maggie. Love you,” Dex says, and Nursey’s heart stops beating for a moment. His lungs refuse to inhale or exhale. The muscles in his legs forget that they are holding up an actual person.

Then Dex’s eyes catch his, going wide at the interruption, and Nursey somehow finds it in himself to pretend that everything is exactly the same now as it was thirty seconds ago.

He looks away and heads for the fridge, his limbs remembering themselves once more.

“Hey, uh, sorry, I gotta go. Can I call you back?” Dex says into his cell phone on the other side of the Haus kitchen.

Nursey rummages through several pounds of butter in search of something edible. He silently repeats to himself his old mantra from Andover, from when he could barely see straight for the tears welling up in his eyes at every backhanded remark or micro-aggression. The mantra he used to train his emotions not to show themselves at every turn, the way they had done with abandon throughout his childhood.

“Write it down instead,” his sister suggested, when he confided to her his inability to keep things bottled up. And, after a time, that strategy seemed to work.

 _Write it down instead_ , he still tells himself now, at the end of his Sophomore year at Samwell, whenever the world becomes too much, whenever he feels suddenly as though his façade of _always okay always fine always chill_ isn’t strong enough to handle the current situation.

Nursey begins to silently run through the words again in his head now, trying very hard not to analyze why he needs to.

“Um, so. How much of that did you hear?” Dex asks him, and luckily Nursey’s got his head buried so far into the freezer that he doesn’t have to cover his pained grimace.

“Not much, man, don’t worry about it. Hey, you think Bitty would murder us if we used his new oven for store-brand taquitos?”

He barely hears Dex’s reply, though, too busy faking normalcy. Too busy wondering who it was on the other end of Dex’s phone call that got to hear the words “I love you” from the guy, and so casually offered up that Dex must say it to her daily.

Dex is staring at him expectantly when Nursey finally dares to turn around and face him.

“Uh, Nurse? Are you--”

“Yeah, bro. It’s chill.”

Dex frowns, but his eyes are more concerned than annoyed. How Nursey knows this is beyond him and just adding fuel to the fire of his internal freakout. Since when did he start becoming so conscious of all the little, subtle pieces that make up William Poindexter? And, more importantly, when did he start _caring_ about them so much?

 _Since you first met him_ , his brain supplies unhelpfully, and Nursey swallows down a lump in his throat as he realizes it’s true. And that it’s too late for this realization to matter, because _Dex loves somebody else._

Dex’s frown hardens when Nursey is quiet for too long. He crosses his arms over his chest, biceps bulging against his flannel, and huffs like he wants to seem annoyed but Nursey can see through the act. _He’s scared._ “So you did hear me.”

Nursey resists the urge to dry heave. “Dex, buddy, it’s fine, alright? I only heard the end. Who’s the lucky lady?”

Which was apparently the wrong thing to ask, because Dex’s frown now turns _offended_ rather than its usual beleaguered version of constipated. “Are you making fun of me? Because I swear to god, Nurse, if you think--”

“Woah woah woah, dude, chill. I was trying to say I’m happy for you? Like, all I caught was the ‘love you’ at the end, so. I’m just... Happy. For you. Loving someone. Er. ‘Swawesome.”

Fuck. “ _Swawesome_?” he mouths to himself with a furrowed brow after that horrendous word vomit, and then looks up just in time to see Dex incredulously mouthing it to himself as well.

Then Dex rolls his eyes. “I was talking to my cousin, Nurse. We’re pretty casual with the _love you’s_ among family. You’ve met my mom, don’t act so surprised.”

“Oh.” Nursey feels like an idiot for not immediately guessing something along those lines. But it’s too late now to take back all of his subsequent revelations and feelings.

Dex bites his bottom lip and tugs nervously at his left sleeve with his right hand. His cheeks look warm, but not hot. So much about Dex is always fire, but what’s often overlooked is how that heat, if treated right, if tended to, could be a comforting warmth rather than a blaze.

“You didn’t hear anything before that?” he asks.

Nursey shakes his head and gives up on finding any food in the Haus fridge that won’t get him into trouble for heating up without Bitty’s supervision. “No, why? Was it embarrassing? We’re gonna be living together next year, bro, I’m pretty sure we’re gonna be overhearing a ton of embarrassing shit.”

Something about Nursey’s expression must give him away, though, because Dex’s eyes narrow. Nursey used to think this particular gaze was a judgmental one, but he’s learned over the last couple years that’s it’s merely assessing. Analytical. Like Nursey is the three-thousand-piece puzzle and Dex is just trying to figure out how to put together the border.

“Shit. You did,” Dex whispers, like he’s talking to himself more than Nursey. “Don’t lie, Derek. I mean, you wouldn’t be freaking out right now if you hadn’t.”

Nursey scoffs, even as his internal organs all squeeze together in a painful, terrified knot. “I am the opposite of ‘freaking out,’ _Will_.”

Dex runs a hand over his beleaguered features. “God, you are such an ass. I can literally see you having some sort of mental breakdown right now, and, look, if it makes you uncomfortable, I’ll...” Dex sighs and grabs the back of his neck in a rare sign of blatant discomfort that doesn’t want to manifest in either anger or a blush. “I’ll get over it, alright? I will spend the entire summer getting over it, and you won’t have to worry about sharing a room with someone who... Whatever. It won’t be an issue.”

“Someone who _what?_ ” It occurs to Nursey that the miscommunication here is not one-sided. Dex genuinely thinks Nursey heard something he shouldn’t have, and it wasn’t the “I love you.” “Wait, were you... were you talking about _me_ before?”

Dex’s whole face goes tomato-red, and his shoulders tense the same way they do when he’s anticipating getting checked into the boards and doesn’t have the time or momentum to send his attacker sprawling back onto his ass. “...No.”

“ _Now_ who’s the liar?”

“Shut up.”

“ _Make me.”_

Dex’s eyes widen and his pupils expand so fast, it’s like someone just flashed a light straight into them and then quickly away.

Nursey sucks in a sharp breath. “Holy shit. Do you... Is this...”

“Yes, I was talking about you,” Dex blurts out, and jerks his head back to stare resolutely at the ceiling. “Maggie’s the only one I’ve ever come out to, so she’s the only one I’ve ever... You know. Talked about boys with.”

Nursey tries to ignore how many circuits in his brain are currently exploding. “And _I’m_ a-- a _‘boy’_ you talk about?”

Dex sucks in a deep breath and then hangs his head so that he’s staring now at the floor instead. “The _only_ boy. At least, for the last year or so.”

 _“Oh wow,”_ Nursey breathes, unable to form a coherent thought in response.

 _Write it down,_ some part of the back of his mind reminds him, still attempting to compartmentalize all of this enough that his emotions don’t just explode out of him.

So Nursey pulls out the Sharpie he keeps in his back jeans pocket with one hand, and grabs Dex’s forearm with the other.

“What are you--” Dex starts, but stops abruptly as Nursey begins writing across his wrist in quick, sure strokes.

_I like you_

Dex stares at the words, upside down from his perspective since he doesn’t adjust or move his arm at all, even when Nursey releases his grip. Just stands there, completely frozen.

“So. There’s that,” Nursey says awkwardly after as much silence has passed as he’s able to stomach. He shuffles his feet and caps the Sharpie, sticking it back in his pocket alongside his phone.

Dex finally looks up. He opens his mouth to respond, and then shuts it again. Bites back half a smile, rolls his eyes in fond exasperation, and starts over. “Alright, shut up. Just. Sit down already and I’ll make your stupid taquitos for you.”

“You say that like I’m being ridiculous, but you’re the only person Bitty lets touch that oven, even on a good day,” Nursey replies around a grin that he honestly just can’t help. He sits down at the nearby table, and watches closely as Dex pulls a garish box out of the freezer and arranges its contents across a cookie sheet with extreme precision.

He feels fucking _giddy_ , like he’s just passed his middle school crush a note in homeroom and gotten a circled “yes” sent back to him. Like someone’s about to shout “fine!” at him just from looking at the stupid expression that’s probably all over his face.

And like he just might pass out from the sheer rollercoaster of emotions he’s gone through in the last five minutes.

“So this is real. This is happening.”

Dex ducks his head, and keeps his eyes on what he’s doing. “I don’t know. We’re about to be roommates, which is probably skipping a few steps in the whole dating department.”

“But you _want_ to date me.”

Dex’ eyes flick to the words written on his wrist, and he brushes the thumb of his other hand lightly over them. “...Yeah.”

“You want to date me so hard you’ve been gossiping with your cousin about me for over a year.” Nursey attempts a smirk, but is pretty sure it just turns into an even wider grin.

Dex tosses a glare at Nursey over his shoulder. “And you nearly had a panic attack you were so jealous when you thought I was saying ‘I love you’ to a girlfriend.”

“Yeah, alright. Fair. So we’re both giant dorks about each other. I can live with that.”

Dex sticks the cookie sheet in the oven, sets the timer and then sits down in the chair directly next to Nursey, rather than the one across from him.

Nursey scoots his own chair a little closer, going for subtle and missing the mark by a mile. “I was really only half freaking out about the possible girlfriend thing. The other half was me realizing I’ve been an idiot and never noticed I was falling for you until it seemed like it was too late.”

“You didn’t _realize_?”

“Hey, don’t make that face at me, dude. I am a fucking master at compartmentalizing, alright? Especially when there’s a very large potential for getting hurt if I don’t.”

Dex frowns thoughtfully. Then, with a hesitancy Nursey’s never seen from him before, he reaches a hand out between them and places it on Nursey’s shoulder.

Dex is not a casual toucher. He hoards his physicality, keeps his gestures tightly controlled, whether on the ice or among friends in the Haus. With Nursey in particular, he’ll accept the occasional fistbump or bro-hug, but he won’t initiate them himself. He’ll let Nursey enter his space, but won’t ever enter Nursey’s.

Nursey feels all the air leave his lungs in a single rush of an exhale.

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” Dex says seriously.

Nursey swallows. “You literally tripped me in the locker room yesterday because I stole your towel.”

“I mean emotionally.”

Nursey snorts an unexpected laugh and punches Dex in the bicep. Dex chokes back a laugh of his own and moves the hand on Nursey’s shoulder up to hold onto the back of Nursey’s neck.

For a moment, they’re still. And this could go either way. A friendly tussle, or...

Dex slowly continues moving his hand up, until his long, freckled fingers are able to card through the short hairs at the base of Nursey’s scalp. The tips of them just reach the curls spilling out from under Nursey’s hat.

“Can I--”

“Yes.”

“You don’t even know what I was gonna--”

“Dex. _Yes_.”

Dex shakes his head, eyes alight with amusement and exasperation and... something else that Nursey has always been afraid to analyze, but wonders now if might be intimate and special and reserved just for him.

And then Dex is leaning in, and Nursey can’t help but lean in to meet him. His whole body feels suddenly magnetized to Dex’s. 

They meet halfway in a dry, chaste kiss, but it’s such a delicate thing, so careful and treasured, that it feels more like a confession than a prelude.  


This is not the _start_ of something, but the embracing of its continued, complicated existence.

When Dex pulls away, he lowers his hand from Nursey’s hair all the way down to Nursey’s ass, and, holy shit, Nursey is completely onboard with wherever this might be going. But Dex doesn’t even pretend to cop a feel, just reaches into Nursey’s back pocket for that Sharpie and pulls it out.

Nursey’s eyebrows furrow inward in confusion as he watches Dex uncap the marker and grab Nursey’s left arm near his shoulder to keep the whole thing entirely still. He writes in swift, even lines over Nursey’s bicep, starting just below the hem of his t-shirt.

 _Your taquitos are done now,_ the letters spell out. 

Nursey balks.  


Dex pecks Nursey on the mouth again. “I like you too,” he says. And then stands up to go pull their food out of the oven.


End file.
